


Deadwood

by orphan_account



Series: The Secrets Of Deadwood [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Anorexia, Brotherly Affection, Crossdressing Kink, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Frank Iero Is A Little Shit, Gay Panic, Gerard Way In Skirts, Heterosexual Sex, I Don't Even Know, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, My First AO3 Post, Mythical Beings, Werewolf, What Have I Done, but - Freeform, i didnt put any effort into this, i watched riverdale and became inspired to make it better, in an emo universe, its a concept im building on, theres lots of fantasy elements ok, vampire, what happened in new york
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24493360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Two brothers move to small town on the coast of Oregon from New York City. Just as they learn to adapt, they start to realize not everything is what it seems. Some of their new 'friends' aren't the kindest, or the most human. They don't like their new living situation in the slightest. They start a new high school, detached from reality just enough to realize somethings up.
Relationships: Brendon Urie/Dallon Weekes, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, Sarah Orzechowski/Breezy Weekes
Series: The Secrets Of Deadwood [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780189
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	1. I Don't Like It Here.

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome to my cliche riverdale style fic. its not much, but i wrote this out because my ex-girlfriend is good at plotting fanfic. it may not be creative, but i enjoyed writing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gbye ryan. see you in another timeline maybe.

“It’s going to be small. I just fucking know it.”

  
The boy with vibrant red hair leaned his head on the window that would only get colder the farther away from Portland they drove. He spoke those words in a quiet mumble, just barely bothering to talk after the hour he had spent silent. The suitcases and boxes in the car piled up, no one in the car was likely to hear him. The day became greyer and the trees stopped being exciting and more of a literal blur. The motor of the little ashy blue rental car was the loudest thing, the only thing he could hear. He decided just then that conversation was the thing that was going to occupy him. He dramatically sighed, the car window fogging up for a moment. His brother, sitting on the left side of the back seat, mimicked his sigh with his own, exasperated one.  
“The apartment was small.” He said, offering room for response.

  
“Yeah. But the apartment wasn’t in some gothic small town of like…” He zoned out for a second. “5 thousand people. And it is named fucking Deadwood. Deadwood. Isn’t that just asking to be mocked?” The older of the brothers brushed the unusual red hair from his eyes, pulling his head from the cold window.  
“The apartment was in the Bronx, Gerard. This is a step up from the Bronx where we saw crime every day.”

  
Gerard whined and accidentally hit his head on the box stacked next to him that separated him from his brother. “Ow.” A partial laugh. The first of the day. “Yeah. But the Bronx had Lindsey.”  
“Lindsey lived in Manhattan.” The younger questioned. He cannot even remember where his best friend of six years lived.

  
“No, Mikey. I meant she came over so much. Felt like she lived there. Hell. I’ll miss her so much. Thanks for getting us kicked out of New York, bitch.” Gerard huffed before leaning forward and throwing his arm around the front passenger seat. His long, black and red sleeves went past his unusually thin wrist. His mother, who had been silent the entire ride glanced at him before looking back at the empty road. “So, Donna.” His mother scoffed at her first name. “What’s the high school like? You grew up here. Is it cool or not?”

  
She barely took recognition before responding. “Your second cousin goes there. His—” Gerard rudely cuts in. Disrespectful child.  
“Yeah, Yeah. You’ve told us about this Ryan kid. If he grew up in this small ass town then he’s probably republican or some shit. Homophobic and racist. What kind of clubs and shit do they have? Ooh! Do they have a cheer team?”

  
“I barely remember shit, Gerard. Sit normally.” Gerard slid back down into the uncomfortable and small seat. “All I know is that most of the families I went to school with still live there. It’s a bigger house than the apartment though.”

  
Gerard whined once more. “Yet I still have to share a room with my little, bitchass twink of a brother.”

Mikey interjected. “Dude, I’m not that bad.”

  
“All you do is listen to Smashing Pumpkins on that old ass record player.” They bickered as brothers do, as the car turned and they both stopped as the approaching town became an interest. They both looked out their respective windows. The boys had never seen much, outside of tall buildings and no experience outside the state, let alone environments across the country. They both felt like children. Gerard laughed with intrigue in his voice as the little rental car went over a stone bridge. The river below the bridge was beautiful, an ashy blue that was shallow and ran through the rocks. It was a short moment but memorable. They passed a welcome sign. Deadwood, Oregon. Town of Forestry. The first time they saw a river. Both the boys let a nervous laugh. It did not feel real in the slightest. The car bumped. The car pulled into the town, a long and short (to them) strip of brick buildings that ran along the right side of the road. No view of what the shops were, except for a secondhand clothing store at the end that wrapped around the corner. Looked as thought to be an unassuming, tiny but beautiful town. On the Oregon coast. With beaches, lakes, rivers.

“The high school is at the end of this road. Both of you will be walking.” Donna said as the car turned. Gerard gagged out loud, dramatic as he usually was. He brushed his hair from his eyes. “Don’t complain. You always fucking do that. You’re never satisfied.”

  
“Mikey and I always took the trains. To school. With our friends. What are friends?” Gerard was just talking to talk, looking at the window as the houses passed. All older suburbia, reminiscent of the late 80s, looking all to be built around that time too. The woods were dense all around the houses. The neighborhood they now lived in had picture perfect, wooden houses. They looked new but old at the same time. All cotton candy colors. Two stories, of light blue and white wood planks. And windows with clean glass and pretty curtains. The car slowed down and stopped on the side of the had-not-been-paved-in-years road. Gerard looked out the right window. Not a full view.

  
“Here. Finally.” Donna said, and both the brothers eagerly stepped out of the car to get a look at the new house they were told would be better than the Bronx apartment. Mikey ran to Gerard’s side to look at the house, and both were equally underwhelmed.

  
A light green house with two stories. A porch on the first floor with stairs that step up to the front door. A small roof overhangs the porch with white poles supporting it. A triangular shape for the roof on the second story, with a square window in the center. A chimney sticking out of the top of the house. The second story extends to the right. It looks freshly built, even though no one’s supposedly lived in it for years. Gerard and Mikey look at each other with disappointed faces before breaking out into a laugh. It is the first breath of fresh air either of them had ever had. Neither of them expected much, but they craved a change of scenery. It is fine for now. They hear their mother’s car door close, and both dart to the front door.  
“Quit shoving, whore.” Mikey said, slightly pushing Gerard back to get up the stairs.

  
“Hey.” Donna called. Mikey was already by the door while Gerard stood on the steps. Gerard turned around and his mother tossed a key to her red-haired son. Gerard caught it mid-air and walked to the door to join Mikey. Gerard pushed Mikey out of the way and put the old, faded, copper key into the hole. Gerard gave the white, wooden door a shove to let it creak open. The room had short ceilings and wooden floors. Wood stairs against the east wall, going to the upstairs. There is no furniture in the house, other than a kitchen in the northeast wall. The west wall of the living room had a fireplace of bricks. Mikey and Gerard both stepped in. They felt like children. Eager to check out what the new house looked like. Gerard grabbed his brothers’ hand and pulled him into the house to look around. “Upstairs. Let us go claim our room Michael.”

  
“Don’t call me Michael.” Mikey said with a slight laugh, as Gerard pulled him towards and up the steep and wide staircase. The stairs were rickety and creaky, both running up it felt like it could collapse at any moment. They knew that soon, faux family photos excluding the father would soon be hung up the walls of the stairs, and they would start the image of a perfect family. They both smiled, a final change of scenery before graduating in two years. Gerard pulled his brother up and around the corner now in a small hallway with faded, lime green walls. With four doors, white and with two on each side with a small, dirty window at the end.

  
“Donna dearest told us it’s the first on the left. We must share a room. Again.” Gerard put his hand in the pocket of his jeans, still pulling his brother along. The floor creaked, and Gerard went to that first door on the left, letting it swing open and revealing their home for the rest of their high school careers. A slanted roof with wooden floors, grey walls. Underwhelming. Mikey took the view of the small room and sighed. “Similar to the Bronx. A little bigger.” Gerard said, stepping and going to the window to look out the window. The room would soon have two beds, two parallel words split down the middle. Band posters on one side, cutesy Polaroids on the other. They would both decorate it on their own terms. They could not be more opposite, yet no better of friends. Gerard finally let go of his brothers’ hand to try and open the window. It did not budge. “Fucking. At least our fifth-floor apartment had a window that opened. And accesses to a fire exit.”

Mikey leaned in the doorway. “Didn’t you make out with Lindsey in the fire exit stairway?”  
Gerard lost his cheer. “Don’t bring that up. Did bitch blonde say when the moving truck thingy is arriving?” He diverted the conversation.  
“Around Noon. It is 11:30. We have been traveling since 4am yesterday. Left from LaGuardia on a flight to Detroit. Three-hour layover. Then to Bismarck. We spent the night there. In the airport. And we flew to Portland this morning. And drove.” He rolled his eyes. “And drove and drove. For what felt like hours. When, it was just a single hour.” Gerard as now dragging his finger across the windowsill.  
“Do you think darling Donna will let me paint the walls?” Gerard looked out the window at his mother, his much-hated mother pulling the boxes they could take with them on the plane(s) and bringing them to the porch. She was no weak woman. But not an emotionally strong woman either. “I think I will. White walls for my side. What’s your favorite color?”

  
“Blue.” Mikey said, knowing his brother was not listening. “Which side do you want?”

  
“Oh. Left. Of course. Like back at the Keller.” Gerard smiled fondly. “C’mon. Let us go ask the witch about painting and stuff.” Gerard stepped back, turning around and pushing past his brother into the hallway. “Race you?” He remarked. They did that in the hallways at home, back in New York. Mikey nodded and both ran down the hall, pushing past each other to get down the stairs. Gerard snatched Mikey’s hand, running down the stairs with his brother behind him.

“Your hands are so cold, Gee.” Mikey said when they reached the bottom, hands still interlocked.

“No, fuckface. Yours are just warm.” Gerard responded when he they started walking to the front door and going outside to their mother. “So. Anything, we can do?” Mikey stood behind him. Gerard clasped his tiny and feminine hands together; with a matching smile his mother would approve of.”  
  
“Yeah.” Donna said, while grabbing something from the trunk. “Get registered for the school. It is just down the road. Like a mile. Forge my signature.”

Gerard whined. “A fucking MILE? Momma it is cold.” Gerard knew he would not get out of this. He hopped down the steps with Mikey. “Let us walk Michael. Maybe we can run away back to New York City.” Mikey just gave up and started walking with his brother.

“That is the wrong way, you prick. Go down that road, just follow it and take the second right. Ask for more directions from people in the town.” Donna said and Gerard turned around, dragging Mikey along with him.

The two brothers, one with dry, flimsy, bright red hair, the other with messy, dark brown hair and black glasses, started a journey down the road they would soon despise. Hand in hand. All the houses they passed quickly were not anything to miss. All looking the same. Light colors and all in shape.

“This school might blow. I hope there’s cute boys.” Gerard said. The wind blew some of his red strands from in front of his eyes. “Or girls. I don’t mind.”

  
“This town gives me the creeps. Somethings going on. I’ve only been here for fifteen minutes and somethings just.” Mikey looked down at their feet. “Off.”

Gerard talked about the pointless things, Lindsey, boys, hair dye, nail polish. They walked past two boys sitting on a porch’s railing, one tall with brown hair, lighter than Mikey’s. The other was shorter, paler than anyone they had ever seen. Brown hair also. His skin had a light glimmer to it. Gerard and Mikey took no note of these kids, they were not interested in conversation with new potential friends. They had each other, and they were the best of friends. The two teenagers had other plans. Or, one of them did. The more talkative of the duo had a plan to befriend. The shorter friend jumped off the railing and his lanky friend followed.

The shorter ran up to the brothers, and both exchanged confusion filled stares. He started walking beside them and his taller friend hesitantly followed. “Hey. Boy with red hair.” Gerard turned his head to look at the short boy. He had brown eyes, amber, almost. “Did you buy those jeans like that? With all the rips ‘n stuff.”. Gerard laughed while Mikey smiled and laughed quietly beside him. They have heard it before. From older hecklers in New York. Gerard looked down at his legs. Underweight, but black jeans with rips going all up his legs. It is an artistic choice. He looked back up at the kid.

"Yeah. Yes, I did.” Gerard repressed a laugh as the taller kid caught up with his friend. They walked beside the brothers like it was normal. He let go of his brothers’ hand, putting his hands into his pocket.

“I’ve never seen you before. Where are you from? Ryan. I think these are Donna’s kids.” The little one said to the taller. “Gerard and Michael Way. You moved from New York City. Ryan’s dad talked lots of shit about your mom. Is it true that Michael got expelled from school?” His taller friend smacked the back of his head and mumbled something.  
Mikey looked down at their shoes, Gerard pulled his hands out of his pockets to hold his brothers’ hand for a second in comfort. “It’s not your fault.” He let go and tried to change the subject. “How do you know our names?” Gerard asked in wonder. Mikey just cringed at his full name and the mention of the reason they moved.

“Most kids in this town know who you are. When we get someone knew, everyone knows.” The shorter said while his silent friend just followed. “And we haven’t gotten new students in years.” The shorter boy had fluffy, dark brown hair that ruffled in the wind.

“And you are?”

“Oh. I am Brendon. Brendon Boyd.” He smiled, a cute smile. “This is Ryan Ross. You are related to him. Cousins, right?” Gerard and Mikey looked at each other and laughed.

“Yeah. Bitchface told us the only other goth in town would be our cousin or something.” Gerard said. “He does have the whole. Bewitched aesthetic going for him.” He eyed Ryan. Ryan finally spoke. Gerard elbowed his brother and whispered, “He’s cute, what’s the chances that he’s gay?” Mikey shoved him with his shoulder and Gerard laughed.

“I wouldn’t call myself goth. Grunge at most. With that color hair, you are far more punk than me. Who is who, by the way?”

“I’m Gerard. Red hair, you will remember it. Trust me. And this is Mikey.”

“Won’t your hair fade out?” Brendon looked puzzled. “And, Mikey?”

“Michael is my real name, but Gerard always called me Mikey. All my friends did.”

Brendon rolled his eyes. He looked like the type of person to never shut up. Like Gerard, but much worse. “Mikey is a dumb nickname though. I will call you Mike.” Mikey looked at Gerard, they exchanged a glance and laughed. “So, where are you guys going?”

“To get registered. At the local high school. Which way is it?” Gerard asked. He never listened to anything his mother said, even the simplest directions. He despised her.

Ryan pointed down the street. His nails were painted black, just like Gerard’s. “Second right. We can show you the way. Bren forgot to sign up for clubs when we registered. And I want to transfer to AP Chemistry. They put me in Biology with some freshman on accident. What grade are you guys in?”

“Mikey skipped a grade. He’s a sophomore, and I, in all my glory, am a junior.” They walked down the cracked sidewalk, all four boys, now. They talked about the town, the shops they had. The brothers learned of all the shops on the main street that included one movie theater, a diner, a secondhand store (I knew it, Gerard mumbled.), a grocery store, a coffee shop, a drugstore at the corner, a clothing store, a bookstore, a flower shop, and if you turn the corner near the middle there’s a bank and buildings for the working class. Where the mother of the brothers would be working. Brendon explained pointless things about the foliage of the trees and explained how the ocean was just to the left of them and down a road as they walked down the sidewalk of the main street.

“So, Deadwood High has a cheerleading team, right?” Gerard offered, as new conversation topic. He subconsciously cocked his hips when he said it. “We had one in New York. I was on it. Mikey calls me underweight, but I am really just quite fit. Lindsey liked my legs.” Brendon’s smile on his oversized lips died and Ryan chuckled a bit.

“Yeah. We have a cheerleading team.” Ryan said, and Gerard opened his mouth to speak but Brendon interrupted him with his own complaint.

“Oh, but it is only girls. The administrators do not want boys doing things meant for females.” So, Brendon was homophobic? Or was it the town. “I went to try outs for JV cheer, but they harassed me for weeks over it. It is just one of the things at Deadwood. Gender roles.” Mikey pretty much stayed silent on the entire walk to the two floored red brick building that the teenagers of the city of 7k attended and called Deadwood High School. “The clubs you can join, are the Theater club, journalism, fashion design, business, art—” Gerard turned his head at the mention of art. “That got your attention. You’re an artist?” Gerard nodded.

“I just doodle ‘n stuff. Nothing big.” Mikey spoke up.  
“He’s really good at art.” Gerard smacked his arm. “He’s been drawing for a long time. Never seen anyone better. He likes comics.”

“Shut up. What other clubs are there?” Gerard said before Brendon turned and they were on the road that lead directly to the high school. Long, with seemingly newly paved roads. Fences, going along beside the road without a sidewalk. The school looked huge, bigger than what you would expect in a small town. Two floors, with windows all over the front. Trees all around it. Steps that lead up to double doors that appeared to be the main entrance to the building. “Fuck. Isn’t it’s kind of big?” Gerard asked. His and Mikey’s school back in the Bronx was not that big, it was a small building with a bunch of no-good teenagers. Mikey muttered something.

“No more off the top of my head.” Brendon said, his hands interlocked in front of him. “There is the school’s newspaper committee. My friend runs it. As I said, a cheer squad run by Jenna Black. A beautiful blonde girl but a total bitch.” Gerard chuckled to himself and Mikey smiled at him. They have had friends just like this short boy, Brendon, who talk and give unnecessary exposition. In a cliché way, they love having and hearing it. “We have a football team too! Captain is this total heartthrob of a senior, Ian Crawford. We have a little friend group. Its stereotypical, but damn we love it.” He smiles, a cute smile.

They approach the entrance to the school when Gerard asks, “Any cute Juniors that attend this supposed hell hole?”

“Dallon Weekes.” Ryan laughs at Brendon’s immediate response he gave without hesitation. “He’s my best friend. Other than Ryry.”

“Don’t call me that. I am no person to ask, but your overall aesthetic gives off…vibes. With the bright hair and stuff, you just look…” Gerard tilts his head with a smile.

“Gay? I get that a lot. I am bisexual. Guess I should keep that in the closet since we live in a small town now. In New York I would go to pride and shit with friends and I was so open and happy. Now it feels like I am just at home. Even when I’m in the airport or in fucking Deadwood.” He said it so casually, with the shrug of his shoulders. A smile still on his lips. “Don’t feel bad. Pretty sure the teenagers won’t be kind to an- “Mikey cuts him off.

“Electric redhead?” He offers and both of them laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think you’ll blend in much Gee.”

“Lindsey likes it.” Gerard flaunts his messy and damaged hair.

“Lindsey?” Brendon asked, tilting his head. Gerard shook his own. Him and his ‘friend’ back in New York have long history. It felt like yesterday he was a barely-teenager waiting for a train and reading a comic when a girl with dark brown eyes and thick, long black hair commented on it and a beautiful friendship was formed. They never went to the same school, but made time for each other often. Days in the large apartment she lived in, resting his head on her chest in the afternoons would be missed.

“My.” Gerard pauses, unable to think of a word to say. “My best friend of all time. She will be missed. A lot.” Mikey looks at his brother, seeing the sorrow in his eyes. No one spoke after that, they walked up the steps to the school, and Mikey went to open the door. He held it for his brother, and Gerard did a dramatic curtsey. “Thanks bey.” Both of them laughed. The first-floor hallway had dark green tiles, with plaster, grey walls. Two hallways, one going right and the other going left. It looked like the layout a hospital, with a countertop, or reception in front of them. The receptionist was a young woman, with pretty, light red hair and pale skin. Just as pale as Brendon’s. She looked at Gerard and Mikey mostly as they approached the counter and smiled brightly at Brendon and Ryan.

“Back again?” She asked. “You were here yesterday.” She brushed a bit of her hair behind her ear, looking at both of them with a smile. “What can I help you boys with?” Brendon leaned on the counter, speaking to the woman.

“Hello, Deborah.”  
“Debby—”  
“My good friend Ryan needs to change his schedule. And these pair of brothers need to be registered. They just moved here.” The woman looked puzzled, and the realization hit her and her face lit up.

“Oh, these are the Way brothers!” She said, looking at the two brothers standing behind Brendon. Gerard and Mikey felt discomfort that so many people knew who they were. “Donna’s kids. It is lovely to meet you. I am Debby.” She offered a hand to Gerard from over the counter that looked like there was a wall there and a piece was cut out of it. “I’m a senior, I help out with getting sophomores and juniors registered.”

Brendon stepped out of the way when Gerard took her hand to shake. “Debby Ryan. Like Ryan Ross.” Ryan stood next to Brendon, looking shy as ever. Gerard let go of the woman’s hand. She gave weird vibes. The three people the brothers have met so far gave weird vibes.

“Anyways…I’ll get paperwork and both of you can fill it out.” She said, brushing her hair behind her ear again. She turned around, going back into the main office to grab some papers.

“Paperwork?” Gerard mumbled, and Mikey giggled. “God, this place sucks already. Two days until school. We could still run away. Go back to New York and live again.”

“I’m sorry. This could be better. We can start over here.” Mikey said. Brendon and Ryan were engaged in a conversation. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’m starting over. We already have two friends, don’t we?”

Gerard lowered his voice. “Acquaintances. People already know who we are. Donna’s kids. She does not have the best reputation. Left this small ass town to go to New York. Got knocked up twice and then her husband disappeared? I would not like her. Correction. I don’t.” Both of them stepped to the counter, Gerard leaning on it. “If this town sucks, I hope to get a good fuck out of it. I turn eighteen next year. Bet your ass I’m leaving.” The girl with natural red hair came back into the room, handing a small note to Brendon and putting papers in front of the brothers.

“So, Debby, Is Iero returning this year? After his... incident in spring?” Brendon asked, slipping the note in his pocket without taking a look at it.

“Who, pray tell? Gerard giggled, before taking a pen Debby offered and scribbling his name down. The three exchanged a look of humor and Brendon and Debby giggled.

“Frank Iero. I think you’d like him.” Brendon says and Debby playfully hits his arm. “He’s a kid who had something happen last year. An accident.” Ryan smiled at the ground oddly. “You should join psychology. I am in that class. It’s sooooo interesting.” Brendon said, pointing to elective classes on the paper.

“Mikey like’s psychology. I’m not the biggest fan. What’s the Russian class like?” Gerard asks. Brendon smiles and Debby laughs and mumbles something. Her elbows are on the counter and she is leaning forward. Ryan mutters something.

“Speak up, Ryry.” Brendon says with a laugh.

“He should try gothic literature.” Brendon starts laughing audibly and Debby gasps quietly.

“Oh, you’re so bad.” Brendon says. “Do it, Gerard. It’s an easy class. I have a friend who takes it.”

Gerard and Mikey looked up at the both of them from the registration paper. “Alright. I guess. None of these looks interesting.” He checks the checkmark for gothic literature.

“I don’t think they like us much.” Mikey mutters and stifles a laugh.

“I know they don’t, Mikey. We are fine with that though. We’ve always been.”


	2. The Suspiciously Normal Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of a new, smaller school doesn't really go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i had to edit lots of shit for this. its so cliche and dumb but here take it. its boring right now but i PROMISE it picks up soon

“Oh, lord. Feminine men can’t survive here. It’s too fucking cold.”  
Gerard cocked his hips, looking into the mirror he had propped up and leaning on the wall. He observed his thin body. He was wearing his black skinny jeans, rips just at the knees. “Or. Even just grunge bastard.” A tight, long sleeved shirt with blue and black stripes. Stolen from his brother when Mikey had sworn to leave the feminine life behind. “It’s a long sleeve but too thin. Oh well. Tight to body. It’ll attract the hetero boys.” His brother was sitting on his own bed, tucked away in the corner, pulling grey shoes on. Silent as usual. In character for Mikey. “Can I borrow your jacket?”

“No.”

“Thanks bey.” Gerard said, turning and walking to grab Mikey’s jacket off the bedpost. He pulled it on, and Mikey rolled his eyes, not protesting. “I’ll keep it just for today.” Mikey tied his shoes and Gerard stepped into the checkboard vans he had worn for years. “I miss the cool breezes of New York. It’s what…extremely cold today?”

“Not colder than New York today. Just different humidity. You are a fucking bastard. So dramatic.” Mikey laughed and Gerard offered up a quiet chuckle. “It looks girly on you. Disgusting.” The one sense of normality they kept with them when moving was stable friendship. Gerard’s fashion style and obsession. Mikey’s lack of personality. Three things that made a sibling-ship work. Two days ago, they put their new lives together, both of them shoving a mattress in the corner and the inch-taller of the duo was the only one that bothered for a bedframe. Gerard had light sheets and a short side table; a big fluffy blanket neatly made on it with matching pair of pillows. Boxes in the corner, his mirror leaning on the wall. “Joining anything this semester?”

“Maybe the school newspaper? I adore writer boys. I have a thing for them. Quiet. Short. Socially anxious pretty boys. Easily topped.” Gerard lowered his voice for the last two words and Mikey stood up to playfully shove is brother. They both laughed with a bright smile. “I’m scared. Mikey, I don’t want to do this. I never did.” He kept a smile, completely ignoring what he said when he picked up his small, red backpack that couldn’t hold anything more than a small sketchpad and some pencils. “Thanks for making us move.” Sudden hostility. Gerard turned away to leave the room, walking out the door while Mikey pulled a grey beanie he had bought before they left onto his hair that was reminiscing of the early 2000s. He grabbed his own bag and followed his older brother out the door. They argue over pointless things, they always had. They got into their first real argument when Mikey had done something that got him expelled from their school. Mother dearest had enough and decided to move them to her hometown. A little house on the coast of Oregon. Gerard tries to ignore it, but sometimes can’t help but bite back. Gerard had his usually messy, bright red hair pinned back with black hair clips that once belong to his girl back in New York. Mikey closed their bedroom door, and the two boys walked down the thin staircase and out of their front door. The day had barely started, and they set off to go to their first day of school in a brand-new state, across the country. The day was shining, a bright sun and a chill breeze. The brothers had always preferred the cold, but they only now got that paired with sunshine. Gerard sighed. They began to walk down the sidewalk, silently observing everything around them. Their new environment. They looked at the picture-perfect homes, of cotton candy colors and trees all around them. Vibrant, alive fall colors of orange and light brown from those trees that line the streets. Some kids walked at the end of the road, quickly and involved in their own friend groups. 

Gerard huffed with his lips pressed together, rosy cheeks and gloss on his lips. Clearly the more girly and attractive of the duo. Gerard dramatically lifted his hand with painted red nail polish, and Mikey, with his black painted nails took it. The boys walked to their new “safe-haven” for now until both of their senior years, hand in hand, preparing for the unknown. “Ready?” As if he could get more awfully stereotypical.  
“Not one bit.”

Brendon Urie was in his best friends’ room, doing the exact same thing. Posing in Ryan Ross’s mirror, while Ryan was packing things into a backpack on the floor by his bed. “You know your edgy, massive band tees look good with jeans.” Brendon put his hands on his hips and smiled at what he saw back in the reflection. Underwhelming. His fluffy brown hair fell in front of his big brown eyes, while his friend sitting on the floor, laughed and smiled at the ground. He leaned forward to tie his shoes. 

“Name one song by Led Zep, you idiot.” Ryan said at his friend standing in his medium sized room. “If you wear my shirt, people will assume you’re cheating on your tall reporter lover boy. For weird book club kid.” 

“Oh, if either of us would cheat it would definitely be Dally boy. For you. You think I don’t notice?” Brendon giggles, looking down at his nails. “I wonder whether the new kids are fun or not. That Gerard kid is cute. He has a nice figure n’stuff.”

“Are you kidding?” Ryan said, standing up and picking his bag off the ground. “He’s a twig. He’s about my height but so fucking tiny in size. You could snap his arm.”

“Oh, New York poor boys don’t eat. My father says they are from the Bronx. No good. Keep your doors locked or they will steal from you. Break in.” Brendon picked up his own little bag that was leaning on the mirror. “I already break in enough. So don’t lock your windows.” Ryan chuckled and started to prance towards the door to his bedroom. “I’ve snuck in since you were 8.”

“I’m on the second floor. I still don’t know how you achieve it, Edward.” They both laugh, with faux oblivion entering their tones. “Don’t give them a hard time though. They seem nice. Why’d you make up that story about Jenna rejecting you from the team?” Both the boys began to walk down Ryan’s hallway and down the staircase of the middle to high class suburbia on Elm Street.

“First day of school, I want to stir up drama even if its at the fault of the new kids. Red might take Dallon from me. He’s obviously gay. He’ll take my iconic title has the gay best friend.” The boys walk across the large living room. “Unpopular opinion.” One of Brendon’s many bad habits was inability to stick on one conversation topic for too long. He said whatever came to mind. “Harry Styles’s new album doesn’t go as hard as it should. He should do a song with his fellow Direction brothers.”

"Didn’t that shit, pop boy dance band break up in like 2010?”

“2015, you bastard. If you are going to shame them at least do it well. And formally. Zayn wouldn’t approve.” They opened, walked out of, and closed Ryan’s white, new, and basic suburbia door. “Extended hiatus they call it. You know, when I was 11 my sister went to a concert for them in Portland and I became obsessed with them just on the train ride there. I miss Kara a lot.” They stood on Ryan’s porch and Brendon huffed. “Oh look. It’s the Way brothers!” Brendon said at a more audible tone that the two brothers walking past would hear. Gerard looked up from the conversation he was having with Mikey and gave no recognition except a mumbled ‘Hey’ he certainly wouldn’t hear. Gerard’s hair blended in with the colors of the leaves that were a portion of the trees that loomed over them. Almost like a fantasy world. “Wait up, guys.” Brendon goes to grab Ryan’s hand and Ryan pulls it back with a quiet and repressed, almost offended sound. Brendon rolls his eyes and proceeds down the three steps without his friend. “Gerard, I like your hair today. It looks sick.” Ryan followed with a sigh. Brendon likes to give people hell, and these two poor boys were likely a victim.

“Thanks. But they’re just hairclips.” Gerard did not give much up for conversation. He couldn’t care less about talking to anyone that wasn’t his best friend/little brother. “Nice shirt.” He offered up nothing of interest. 

“Oh, thank you.” Brendon said with one of his faux smiles that looked real enough to fool an outsider. “You’re real skinny, Gee. Why is that?” With his plastered smile, paired with his hands interlocked in front of him as he walked, he projected nothing but joy and naivety. A soft idiotic vibe. Mikey lost his breath when Brendon said that phrase and only had a look of pure shock. Ryan looked away from everyone. Never one for, nor good at, physical violence, Brendon went for the mind to take several hits at. Ryan’s seen it before with several. Gerard looked confused, whether or not he imagined it or not.

“It is…” Gerard took a deep breath. “Not something I can control.” He started to walk faster, pulling Mikey along with him down the sidewalk. Brendon walked faster with them, forcing the tall and poor Ryan to speed up to keep up with the people who weren’t even his friends.   
“Oh. I thought maybe you were like anorexic or something. Are the rumors true that New York kids don’t eat?” Brendon said. He was one to talk, nonetheless. He looked feminine and frail himself. “Never mind. That’s a bit rude.” He kept the image of perfect innocence on his face. 

” A little bit.” Gerard said with a smile to keep up the act he was fine internally. Mikey and Ryan felt caught in the middle of them. “You can’t just ask that.” Gerard smiled a smile that Mikey knew all too well. Gerard was about to have fun with his kid. Take his role in this new environment. Head bitch in charge needed to get adjusted.

“Oh, I can, and I did. Did you boys get your schedules?” Brendon said. Gerard looked puzzled and so did his brother in hand. The sudden change in conversational topics would soon be adjusted to. 

“Yeah. We did.” Mikey stayed silent as his brother spoke. “First period English.” Brendon mumbled something about having that class. “Second period Calculus 2, third peri—” Brendon interrupted harshly as they reached the end of the road and to a stoplight. 

“Calculus 2? You are taking a senior class a junior? “Brendon said, his fluffy hair ruffling in the soft wind and breeze of the daylight. Mikey smiled and Gerard squeezed the hand of the taller of the duo. 

“Yeah. In New York I was always…advanced. Ahead of my class.” Gerard never liked talking about himself. It always brought him down if it were not to attract the attention and the attraction of the nearest girl. He looked in front of him at the road, and how it looked so perfect and new. The houses around and behind them looked perfect, pastel and recently built. The perfectly lined houses of rustic and cottage-core suburbs. Of beautiful housewives and gorgeous kids. The road in front of them went to the right and north, straight in front of them. The road north went upwards, a curious incline. The road right was too the main street they saw and walked yesterday. “Hey. What’s up that hill?” Gerard asked, pointing with his free hand. It was an odd sighting, the road went up a large, slow incline uphill winding up and eventually, likely to look over the ocean of the cold coast. Brendon giggled and Ryan spoke.

“The Iero mansion. Our old friend Frank lives there with his parents. They own a tea business. Ever heard of Ivy League Tea?” 

“I stole a case of it with Lindsey. Why?” Gerard smiled fondly at the memory, lowering his hand as the four of them crossed the street. Wonderful. It gave the aesthetic of white picket fence, small town America but near to a fantasy realm. Bright colors of the trees and nice, asphalt that probably hasn’t been replaced in years. But it looks good as new. The main street looked right out of a comic book, or some obscure teen drama you’d watch just for its bad quality. Brick buildings and perfectly lined trees, buildings not even a quarter as tall as what the Way brothers grew up with.

“Frank’s parents own it and he’s the heir.” Brendon says with his faux smile he loved. They reached the other side of the great road and near the road that went up the hill. Gerard smiled at the ground with a repressed chuckle. 

“The Frank kid you brought up on Saturday at the school sounds like…quite the character.” Gerard said and both Brendon and Ryan laughed slightly. Mikey just took in their new surroundings in silence. He was always a listener, never a speaker. ”So, he’s just ominous.” Brendon was having a giggle fest when Ryan hit his arm to get him to shut up. He does.   
“Frankie is an odd one. He’s always been. But I’m not one to talk.” Brendon kept his satirical grin on his face as he spoke. Creepy, weird vibes were omitted. “He was best friends with Ryan and I for years. Then—”

“Shut up, Brendon.” Ryan said with an out of character confidence. “He’s just our friend. No big deal.” Gerard and Mikey looked at each other at the same time with the same look and smiled. It felt cliché. Humorous. Like plot out of a movie. Other children walked up this road, some on the curb and some walking along the main street. Some glanced at the two newcomers. Mostly at the flame that mingled within the trees, matching them near to perfectly. Brendon looked across the street, around them, observing the small-town surroundings. Gerard stayed hand in hand with his brother. Together they prepared for the unknown. Whatever it may be.

The rest of the walk to the school was mumbled chatter with them, the low whisperings of other people mentioning the hair color of the new junior. A noticeable girl, with gorgeous blue eye and blonde hair, Brendon pointing it out to be the Jenna girl he spoke of a few days ago. The entrance to the school had much more children than it did two days ago. The first day of school, most kids more formal than what the brothers grew up around. No fishnet tights, leather jackets, combat boots, or dyed hair. They now saw skirts that were not extremely short, clean socks and blouses, dresses, and jeans without rips in them. Tall, cute boys in the eyes of the red-haired boy. All available, even if they were heterosexual and in love with a girl, a grasp of the homo-romantic affairs would be easy to achieve.

Gerard’s classes in New York City were always overcrowded. He didn’t have that problem in Deadwood. He sat in the back of the medium sized classroom, with two large windows and green walls, and a grand total of 11 kids taking English first period with a teacher named Saporta. All the students ranged from sophomores to seniors. All people Brendon had told the brothers about on that one Saturday they got registered except for one, short boy with black hair. Two girls, nine boys, and a home room of first period English. Little did these 11 kids know what was coming for every last one of them. All of them were considered advanced or on level. The two youngest in the room, Michael James Way and a boy by the name of Joshua Dun. Both sophomores, both skipping one grade to be in this classroom. Everyone in that class seemed to be one of the odd ones, picked selectively from records. Nothing in common except for a few things.

All excelled in their youth at something in particular. Sports, academics, talents. Something they chose to be put on their school record either with an excited yes or a tired nod. 

All of them have been told they had potential in getting a career in the arts but had that idea quickly shut down. Either physical art, instruments, filmmaking, writing…but none of them have confidence in that area.

And finally, all of them have a physical offense on their school record. I will not elaborate on that.

The hair colors in the rooms all were relatively normal, a pop of bright red farthest from the door and the window. No teacher yet. Brendon, the fluffy haired pale boy talking to the tallest boy of the room, a boy by the name of Dallon with thin and neat brown hair. They’re both giggling and smiling. Mikey sat next to his brother, they both stayed silent. The observant type. The sunny morning shined through the big windows, hitting on specific blonde girl sitting by the window perfectly as if she were a main character. Completely normal from what’s been revealed. Everything looked perfect. Serene. Natural yet so fantastical. The 11 children waited for the start of the anticlimactic year. They waited for a quarter of the class period, mingling amongst themselves. Mikey and Gerard talked, by that I mean Gerard talked to him and Mikey listened silently while looking at the old desk. Gerard used his finger to motion for Mikey to listen to a whispered phrase. Mikey obeyed leaning over to listen to his brother. 

“Brendon’s a little whore, huh? He’s cute. Quite the bitch though. Can’t keep his mouth shut.” Mikey pulled away to looked in his brothers faded greenish brown eyes. 

“You did not just say that. Fucking slut. You’ve known him for three days. Quit thirsting.” Mikey rolled his eyes, moving his gaze to the front of the classroom. “You are awful, Gee.” Gerard giggled and Mikey stayed with his dead put face. 

“I know, dahling.” He mimicked one of his idols. “I’m just bored. No interesting boys so far. The cute little bottom boy with black hair. See him?”

“Oh.” Mikey says when Gerard lifts his frail hand to point a finger at a boy patiently sitting. “No. Not that one. Brendon said that kid is named Peter. He’s apparently a ‘hot mess’.” Mikey said in a voice that’s a not too distant echo of his brothers. Their voices did that sometimes, syncing up to partially the same voice. Same tone, but Gerard always had a feminine undertone that some people mistook for a lisp. Gerard laughed and so did Mikey.

“Know anything about the short OTHER short little bottom boy? The one with the cute blonde dyed hair that’s shaved on the side. Kind of faded.” The red head motioned to a boy sitting near the wall reading a book. “He’s cute. Not quite convinced on the bottom boy front. Switch?” Mikey smiled slightly. 

“Shut. He could hear you.”

“Unlike you, my darling little brother, I am not scared of humiliation. Yet you seem to have a thing for it. I’m gonna talk to him.” Gerard pushed his chair back and stood up, and Mikey grabbed at his sleeve.

“Think twice. Gerard. Don’t do something stupid.” Blink. “Again.”

“He seems cute and hard to get.” Gerard pulled out of Mikey’s grasp and Mikey just sighed and watch Gerard takes one step, another, and Brendon, with a faux smile stands up roughly and called out in a tone everyone in the room would hear.

“Gerard, where are you going?” 

Gerard was never the type of person to like attention on him if it wasn’t overwhelmingly positive or negative. He didn’t like the neutral stares on him in this moment, all faces he didn’t know. The Way brothers went to the same school with the same kids their entire lives, they weren’t used to a change of scenery. New people, new surroundings. “Uh.” He managed to say while forming a smile. “Just moving my seat.” Mikey just covered his face out of embarrassment, feeling the unnecessary red flush and fill his face. “Wanted to talk to him.” Gerard said with his false and fictional pride. He sat down next to the black-haired boy reading a book. “Hi.” He said with an iconic giggle.

The boy barely acknowledged, glancing up for a brief moment and looking back down. “Greetings.” 

“Ooh, ominous. I like that. Whatcha reading?” Gerard mimicked the girl by the window by twirling his hair in his finger. 

“Lovecraft.” He said, barely taking his eyes of the text. Gerard’s smile was kind of lost when he noticed the boys lack of enthusiasm. Gerard sighed with a smile, his elbows on the desk, staring at the guy. A usual play of cards for his type. Smile and agree with everything a boy Gerard showed mild interest in said or did.

“Cool. I love literature.” The boy looked up at the bright red flame and Gerard looked into his brown eyes. “I’m Gerard.” He held out his hand. The boy had a nice face, small lips, tired eyes.   
“And I’m busy.” It took Gerard a few seconds to process. A few seconds for his smile to die and for him to realize this wasn’t worth easy effort. A mumbled ‘rude’ and he pushed the chair back to go back to sit next to his brother. Mikey looked back up at Gerard doing his offended walk-of-shame back to next to him. 

“So?” Mikey asked. The door to the room opened and everyone looked. A tall, supposed teacher walked in with complete serenity and avoiding the fact of how late he was.   
“He’s a dick. I don’t like him.” 

The hallways are emptier than either of the brothers expected. It’s a huge school but apparently the third floor is off limits to anyone that isn’t student council or teachers. There’s a school newspaper on the first floor with printing press. Odd choice. “I write for the school newspaper and so does my friend. We don’t really have a “team”, so you say.” Said the 6’3 boy the brothers had several classes with. Brendon knows him, his name is Dallon Weekes and he’s been nothing but cliché and expository. “It’s quite a nice school. I was also new, once upon a time.” Mikey just clung to Gerard’s arm. He had an anxiety attack half an hour ago and was still in recovery mode. No one else noticed how clingy Mikey was but he felt like everyone did. “Not a lot of people stay after school for extra curriculars. Gerard, I think you’d do good with writing. You fit criteria.” He vaguely said with a smile. “You can start today if you like.” Mikey gave Gerard a look that Gerard didn’t see. He was too focused on listening and thinking of a response. This all felt too quick. Unreal. Like a dream. “You don’t have too, though.” Dallon said and Mikey tightened his hold around Gerard’s frail and tiny arm.

“Don’t do it. Just go home with me and we can watch a movie or something. Go get coffee. Together.” Mikey hissed the last word and said the entirety of sentence quietly. “I don’t want to do this or be alone. Please. Please. Please. Please.”  
“I might drop by.”

“Fuck you Gee. I hate you so much. I’m going to kill you. Poke holes in your condoms. Slit your tiny throat—”

“Yeah. I think I will. No better way to get adjusted.” Gerard said, his posture straight and his mind blocking out the complaining his brother did. Dallon smiled. He seemed like a warm person. Can’t do anything wrong. 

“Good! I think Frank will like you.” Dallon said before slipping away into the small town with a flash of a genuine smile. The first the brothers have gotten. Mikey’s fingernails were digging into Gerard’s arm.

“Let go.”

“Never, fiend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> or does it pick up soon.


	3. Escalate.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are thrown back in forth from fantasy, to memories, to fiction, to real life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! just a little warning, i use the f slur once in this chapter! sorry. things get exciting, and i promise it picks up more from here. im working on more action fics and this one is my first, sorry if its a little slow.

“Jack. I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.” Rose spoke from the old television. Gerard mouthed the lines perfectly, word for word. He leaned on the side of Mikey’s shoulder, dramatically, with the back of his hand to his forehead. Wednesday nights are for movies. Usually late night reruns of movies that have been watched before. The two brothers were cuddled up, Gerard’s back to Mikey’s shoulder on the small couch and Mikey upright and tolerant. Mikey paid no attention to the annoying boy beside him. 

“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.” Gerard chanted in a whisper as the girl on the screen undressed. “The original nude…Lindsey had boobs.” 

“I prefer flat chests.” Mikey said calmly, paying attention to the old television. “Or nothing at all.”

“I’ve noticed. Lindsey had small tits that were soft. Titty naps. Oh, how much I miss sitting laying on her bed in the afternoons, basking in the afterglow and evening sunsets, sleeping peacefully on her—” Gerard said with his feminine and nostalgic tone before his brother interrupted. 

“Staying out hours past your curfew.” Mikey said with an eyeroll and a glance down at his brother leaning on him. His red hair was still violently bright, even in the dark with only the TV and light of the streetlamp on the street shining through the crack in the faded white curtains. “Mom always asked me about your whereabouts. I didn’t know. I never did. Remember that night in June? You just vanished. For the entire night. And the rest of the next day. Left your phone at home.” Mikey recounted, the glare of the movie hitting his glasses. “Where were you? You never told me.”

Gerard hesitated for once in his life, deciding whether he should speak or not. He inhaled, exhaled, and moved to get himself comfortable. He wrapped his arms around Mikey’s waist and Mikey pushed him slightly so he’d untighten his hold. “I was…at a Co-ed strip club with Lindsey. And her friends. The weird ones…You know her prep school? She got her three stoner friends to come with us. I didn’t get their names, I’m not sure who they were. We ran around Manhattan and I got catcalled several times. We ditched her friends though. She asked me if I wanted to watch the sunrise from her family’s apartment. I did. We. Did things.” Gerard resumed his lazy hug around Mikey. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He went back to staring at the television. 

Mikey didn’t push Gerard off. He was always tolerant of how clingy Gerard was. How he favored physical affection from other people. Gerard needed it, always confirmation that other people loved him and cared for him. Which is why Mikey tolerated the constant hand holding, hugging, downright cuddling sometimes. His brother was clinically insecure, and happened to use Mikey as his crutch. He couldn’t bear to push Gerard away when he was especially loving. Gerard dug the side of his head into Mikey’s waist, a sign Mikey took as too straighten his position so his brother could rest his head in his lap. “If it’s not too sensitive…” Mikey said and Gerard sighed. “What were you and Lindsey?”

It was no easy question to answer. Gerard was a lot of things, straight forward was the farthest from one of them. “Fuck buddies? I think.” He hesitated, a few second break between each word. “I don’t know. She called me her boyfriend. But I never called her my girlfriend. She called me her little femboy.” Gerard giggled, pulling away from the topic of his lover in New York. “I wore dresses for her.” He quickly and hastily realized he didn’t want to talk about his old home. It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. He misses the feeling of finality everything in his life had. Him and his brother were uprooted from their tiny, tiny home in the Bronx. The thing that felt permanent was taken from them. Mikey could care less. Gerard wanted to care less. Mikey didn’t have friends to leave, Gerard did. Mikey didn’t have positive memories of New York. But Gerard did. 

“It’s icky here.” Gerard mumbled into Mikey’s side. Mikey was starting to realize why he was clingier than usual. “Gross.”

“Are you stoned?” Mikey asked. Gerard then giggled and tightened his hold around Mikey’s waist. “Yep. You are. Where’d you get it?”

“Drugstore. Just a little. It’s legal here. Don’t worry, Mikey. I’m safe. So very safe.” Gerard closed his eyes, getting comfortable right in Mikey’s side.

Michael James Way was no simple kid, he might look it, he might feel it, but in no way was he one sided. He had a plethora of emotions, but unlike other fifteen-year old kids, he buried them and never planned on digging them up. He excelled in his youth with grading for school, skipping the 7th grade completely. Which resulted in him now, a sophomore that had recently turned fifteen. A very smart child, growing up in a not-so-great environment. He always had some form of separation anxiety from his brother. Gerard grew up as a half-parent, they were never separated, so when they were. It hurt. It was a mutual need, they both acknowledged it, nodded and moved on. He now had to cope with a daily, hourly separation. He did so by sitting at a table by the window for his study hall period, reading a book he found on a shelf behind him. Bored. Missing his brother in a way people would deem weird if he told anyone. The book was Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises. Boring in his opinion. He placed it down, looking out the window into the slight rain. The school was on a semi ledge, a stone path going down the hill, winding down to the bottom, he could only assume. He rested his elbow on the table, his palm on his cheek. He was lost in thought, thinking of memories. His and Gerard’s conversation last night made him think of New York. The exciting things. Running around the streets at 3am, hand in hand and wearing whatever the fuck they want. Thirteen years old and wearing skirts and fishnets, makeup, tall platform shoes, glitter on their faces and looking like strippers. Going to flower shops late at night, standing by the water and looking over. Times to be missed i-

“Hello?”

Mikey turned his head to look at the boy. Short, with dark brown curls. Tan skin, a light brown, but rosy cheeks and little eyeliner stars under his eyes. Pretty boy. He smiled as soon Mikey’s dirty green eyes made eye contact with his brown ones. Almost amber. Mikey just looked confused. “Hi.” He said tilting his head to the right slightly. “You’re one of the new boys, right?” Mikey nodded silently, knowing he was taking his wannabe quiet aesthetic to heart. The boy kept his joyful smile, sitting down at the other end of the dark brown and old table. “I’m Peter. Sorry. It took a few days for me to talk to you. I just didn’t have any opinions of you yet.” Peter had a soft face, blush on his cheeks and the bridge of his perfect nose. Little, stars under both of his eyes, a dark black eyeliner. Mikey understood makeup.

Peter held out a hand, and it took Mikey a moment to register and shake his hand. “Hi.” He said, giving an honest smile for once. He returned eye contact. Peter had a slit in his eyebrow. “I’m Mikey. Way.”

“Hi Mikey. Brendon said you’re from New York.” Peter let go of Mikey’s hand. He laughed. “I lived in New York City once. What part are you from? I lived in Albany. For like. Six years.”

“I’ve never lived in any place that wasn’t New York. I’m from the Bronx. My brother and I hated it. Overcrowded.”

“Oh! Your brother! The one with bright red hair. Jared, right?” Peter said. Every word he said was enthusiastic, pure at heart.

“Gerard. His name is Gerard.” Mikey said, deadpanning it. 

“Oh. I’m sorry. His hair is awfully. You know. Dramatic.” He shrugged, keeping the smile. “We don’t get new kids often. No one aspires to move to Deadwood, Oregon. Two hours from Portland. Why’d you move here?” He seemed to glow of wholesome naivety. 

“My mom lost her job in New York and decided to move back to her home town. Which happened to be Deadwood. The town seems boring, though.” Mikey relaxed slightly, smiling back. “No offense.”

“None taken. At all. My family has moved around a lot. I’ve been here for awhile and I don’t like it all. No emotion. Nothing negative. A new positive, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. One in front of me, I think.” Oh. So Peter is a flirt. “Tell me your interests. You seem chill.”

Gerard waited in a little armchair, in the odd little room Dallon told Gerard to go to if he were interested in gothic literature. He wanted to check it out. It had bookcases on the east wall, two tables and rugs on the floor of different colours. The fluffy green chair was sitting in the corner, Gerard was tracing circles in the fog of the cold window. It cold for the time of year. Gerard hugged his knees tightly, wrapping his tiny arms around his small yet long legs. He had a grey sweater that had NYU on it, and the dirty, black, ripped jeans on that did not benefit to the chill at all. All of his sweaters tended to fall past his wrists and over his hands. He didn’t like when people looked at his hands, or any part of his body really and commented on how tiny his frame was. Rain was slightly falling, softly and gracefully onto the perfect green grass outside. The room was quiet. Either soundproofing or the school was just completely empty. He sighed, adjusting to silence, being away from his brother, the cold temperature, the surroundings, and then—

A boy, THE boy from several of Gerard’s classes threw open the door. The one with black hair, blond on one side. Short. Gerard hugged his knees tighter, looking at the door but avoiding eye contact with him. He entered room, not looking in the corner. He set his bag down on the brown table, a tattered old thing. He turned, saw the red haired twink sitting in that fluffy chair, and jumped. It scared him, while Gerard just stared at him, his green eyes glazed for a few seconds before realizing the boy.

“Fuck!” The boy said, grasping at a word and reclaiming a Victorian prince like poise. Standing up straight. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He groaned, and Gerard let go of the hold on his legs to let them touch the ground. “For a kid with bright red hair you aren’t very noticeable.” He walked to the bookshelf, standing on the tip of his shoes to reach the top shelf. He could barely see up there. “Why are you here? I think you’re in the wrong room.” Gerard brushed some of the bright red strands behind his ear, to get a better focus of the boy.

“This is a private library. With gothic literature, right?” Gerard stood up, and Frank pulled an old book covered in dust off the top shelf. He turned, seeing the height of Gerard and the subconscious anger grew. 

“Yes. Still. There’s like six kids that come to this room and only two of us come on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. It’s usually empty and quiet. Who told you to come here?” Frank asked, opening the book and flipping to some obscure page.

“I don’t know. Some tall kid, I can’t remember his name.” Gerard said shrugging, looking at the window avoid the risk of eye contact. 

“Dallon?” Frank said as though it was some obvious thing, setting the book down on the table, and reaching to the bookcase for another one.

“Oh. Yeah.” Gerard said, his mind seeming cloudy. He pressed a finger to the side of his cheek, signaling thinking, before processing former interactions with Frank and harshly asking, “Hey. What’s your problem with me? You’ve been hostile and shit to me and all I’ve ever done is show mild interest in talking to you.” Frank laughed while facing away, turning to look at Gerard and abandoning the book search. 

“I’m not really into redheads.” He had some bright, sort of sadistic smile. “Or boys.”

“I meant interested as in friendship. You seemed all mysterious. Guess that just means bitchy n’ edgy now.” Gerard rolled his eyes, and Frank stepped closer.

“No. Brendon can’t keep his mouth shut if you haven’t caught on yet. He told me that you thought I was cute. I don’t swing that way, creep.” He still had an out-placed smile on his small lips. “So don’t come on me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t befriend me.” Gerard paused, and Frank stepped closer. His cheeks flushed, too out of it to realize he hadn’t told Brendon anything at all about Frank. His cheeks felt warm, not sure if color would be visible or not. Frank chuckled, looking him up and down. “Faggot.”

This comment pushed Gerard. Like someone have shoved him onto train tracks that had a train coming to him at full speed. He didn’t know what to do, he just brought his right arm up quickly to try and shove him away but Frank hastily, and oddly quickly wrapped his index finger and thumb around Gerard’s wrist before he could even get close to doing it. “He was right, you are small.” He giggled. The door to the room opened, and Gerard pulled from Frank grasp and pushed him away quickly, both palms hitting Frank’s chest. It was Dallon, walking into the room as Gerard picked up his small bag and walked right past Dallon. Sweeping by without saying anything. A silent exit. He heard the door close, and Dallon say something quite loudly to Frank. 

Gerard felt his heart rate speed up, his vision blurring, walking too fast to handle an anxiety attack sprung from nothing. He walked down the hall, clenching his fist and digging fingernails into his palms so much it felt as though they could bleed. Find Mikey. That was all he cared about. Find his brother, and he could calm down. Find a place to calm down. Any brightly lit room would do. Room that didn’t suffocate him. He walked quickly and swiftly as the voices from the room increased but faded out of his ears.

“It’s a nice town. We just don’t have a lot of nice people.” Ryan Ross walked down a dirt path behind the school, hands in his pockets of the plaid, dark green pants. “Christian, racist, homophobic girls. There is a weird cult in the corner of the town. We think. I mean Brendon thinks so.” Mikey walked beside him, looking at his shoes and the uncommon texture. Dirt. “It’s just a weird town.” Ryan felt his fingernails digging into his palms in his pocket. “I think you’ll like it though. Shy people tend to find their way in Deadwood. It’s just…” Ryan rummaged his mind for a word better than the one he ended up saying, “Easy.” A pretty white cat ran along the path in front of them. She had a little black bow. “That’s Lili.” The cat vanished into the forest. “She’s Frank’s cat.”  
Mikey walked with his hands behind his back, the wind ruffling his dark brown and lanky hair. He kept quiet, not preferring to respond because it was clear Ryan was anxious and didn’t prefer talking. One in the same. Ryan had chocolate colored hair, pale and rosy cheeks. Soft facial proportions, skinny but not as frail as Mikey’s brother. Average looking boy, with an oversized black sweater and tiny black shoes. 

“We have a bit of mythological history.” Ryan offered a faux smile, much more genuine than Brendon’s though. No, actually. Less genuine, more convincing. “There has been myths about vampires and werewolves having a sort of…sanctuary here. It’s weird though.” Ryan shrugged. Mikey just nodded, agreeing with a hum. “Mostly boring. We have cute little bookstores and coffee shops. It’s like a movie.” Ryan took a deep breath to handle having to do most of the talking. “I like it. Even if no one else does. Most people I know don’t like it here. They wanna escape. I don’t. It’s peaceful. Nothing exciting ever happens. And that’s good.” Ryan tripped over his words. “I like it.”

Mikey noticed that down the cliffside he was walking down was the one he saw from the window earlier. It was a slope that went down to the beach, and Mikey just went along with everything. He asked Mikey for a walk and Mikey followed without a question. The rain had stopped, it was around noon, but the sky was still cloudy and dark. There were trees around them, a little dirt and stone pathway winding down the cliff side. Ryan hopped at the bottom, over a rock and into the sand. He held out his hand and Mikey took it for brief second to jump over a large rock and next to Ryan.  
“Why are we here?” Mikey asked as Ryan walked west of the small beach. The sand was dirty, trees surrounding the cove and the shore was rocky. 

“I come here almost every day.” Ryan took another breath. They walked to the left side of the cove, where an oddly flat rock sat by the shore. A single book sat on the edge of it. It was a weird sight. A plain, white book sitting on a flat, black rock. Waves could so easily crash up against it, damaging the book but it was untouched. “I don’t think she read it.” Ryan said with a disappointed expression. Before Mikey could ask who ‘she’ was, Ryan called out for her. It wasn’t loud, just a call for her. “Z?” Just the letter Z.

“Who?” Mikey asked, and Ryan stayed silent. He stepped onto the flat rock, bending down to pick up the rock with his always shaking hands. He held it to his chest, against the sweater, and stepped down from the rock. As soon as he stepped down, standing back next to Mikey, a wave softly crashed upon the shore. If the book was still there, it’d be soaked. Pure luck, I guess, Mikey thought. Ryan stood still, holding the book with one hand on his chest. 

“My friend.” Ryan smiled softly. Mikey near to shrieked when a feminine hand grabbed the edge of the rock on the shore. 

“Whatthefuckisthat—” Mikey mumbled and blabbered. He took a subconscious step back. Another hand grabbed the edge and pulled up. It was a girl. A pale girl. She had perfectly dry, long, straight blonde hair, falling over her unusually flat chest. Perfect lips, brown eyes. Gorgeous, but Mikey couldn’t care less. He was startled. The girl was topless. She sat on the edge of the rock. Ryan stepped towards the stone. 

“Miss Berg.” He smiled for once, turning to motion for Mikey to come forward. Mikey stood still, shaking his head.

“No.” Mikey said without hesitation. Ryan reasonably shrugged and went to the girl. She silently raised her arms and Ryan grabbed both her hands to pull her up. He pulled her onto the edge of the large stone. Mikey blinked a few times, adjusting to the sight. It was just a girl. With what looked like tattoos of spirals above her waist. And on her face? Weird.  
“Elizabeth—” Ryan said to her and she spoke for the first time.

“Z! My name is—” She coughed, raising her hand. Her fingertips were claw like, black on the tips and dripping down like ink. “Z. Z. It’s Z. Who is.” She used that same hand to motion at Mikey. “He.”  
“Mikey. He’s new here. He’s trustworthy. The Real Ones say so.” Ryan said, looking back at Mikey briefly. “Mikey, cmere, she doesn’t hurt anyone.” Ryan kneeled down, pulling the girl fully onto the rocky shore. She seemed to resemble a fictional mermaid. Scales that blended up to her topless waist, a black color that was shiny. Mikey couldn’t see below the rock, the supposed tail hanging off the edge. A dream, probably. So he treated it as such. He walked calmly up to Ryan, kneeling down to look at the girl. 

“Is she real?” Mikey asked, tilting his head. The girl laughed. “What is she?”

“Oh, she’s very real.” Ryan said. “She’s a siren.”

“Aren’t those. Fictional?”

“Fictional things are real in Deadwood. Catch on.” Ryan said. Mikey reached out to the girl. Oh. So sirens/mermaids/very beautiful women were real. A surprise. Though he processed it casually, better than most would.

He found a room. Bright light. It was comforting in a way he couldn’t comprehend. Just an empty classroom. He sat on a desk, waiting for Mikey to escape from one class for them to ditch the rest of the day. He looked down at his legs, messy hair falling in front of his view. Thin, all too thin. Everything about him was. He came down from the uncomfortable high he had just had, exhaling dramatically. His phone sat on the table next to him, face down. Just a few minutes ago he messaged his brother, didn’t get a reply and now expected him to walk in. Soon. He would. Gerard never knew that a word could push him over the edge until a year ago. Just a simple word, namecalling. Childish. He tried to brush it off as just that, but it was a label. It stuck with him. Plastered on the way he walked, the way he dressed. It wouldn’t be the last. And it certainly was not the first. He exhaled once more, glancing at his phone. Just boring. Basic. Everything was here. No positive action. His one negative action, though; walked into the room. His head darted up when the black haired boy from earlier waltzed in, acknowledging Gerard with a prestigious gag. He walked right past Gerard, walking to the back of the class silently. 

“Who are you waiting for?” Frank asked, reaching up to a cabinet at the back of the classroom. He had a passive tone. He wasn’t trying to provoke Gerard. He was just asking. 

Gerard fiddled with the front of his sweater. “My brother.” He mumbled. “What are you here for?”

“I need pens. And Dallon wouldn’t stop harassing me until I apologized. I’m not planning on it, though.”

“Pens? Really?” Gerard glanced back, smiling down while pulling at the front of the grey sweater. 

“I left some here. They’re expensive. I’m not losing them.” Frank opened the cabinet, reaching around before pulling two pens down. “Why are you waiting for your brother?”

“Ditching. Not getting in trouble without him. I don’t want to face the wrath without him.” Gerard said, clearer than his other words. This gave Frank a thought. Not a good one.

“Need him?” Frank asked, walking over. He slipped the pens into his pocket after closing the cabinet. Gerard nodded, mumbling a yes. “Ah. Kinda odd, though. You two seem really close. Closer than brothers should be.”

Gerard focused on the words, pausing before responding with a question. “What are you implying?”

“You hesitated. I caught you. Isn’t it just a little weird that you hold his hand all the time? And don’t like it when you’re away from each other? And do everything together?” Frank’s tone was no longer one of peacefulness. It escalated far too quickly. 

“He’s my brother. Are you implying that we’re in a relationship?” Gerard asked in a hopefully joking tone.

“Damn straight. Or, I guess gay. He also seems effeminate.” Frank smirked. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re disgusting.” Gerard said with out a second of hesitation. “You are so gross, you can’t shit on me for being feminine, you just accused me of incest because I’m close with my little brother.” 

Frank, in a quick, smooth, motion, swiped Gerard’s phone from the desk next to Gerard. Gerard quickly stood, approaching him, but Frank stepped back, turning on the phone to see the background. It was a girl, with dark hair and red lipstick, smiling. The photo was shaky, and Gerard with brown hair in the background was reaching for the phone with a bright smile. The girl had taken the photo while Gerard wasn’t looking. “Ooh, who is she? Your brother must be jealous.”

“You disgusting bitch!” Gerard was taller than Frank, and snatched the phone from him. Mikey opened the door, though, looking at the laughing Frank and Gerard almost provoking him. Mikey didn’t comment, only tilted his head. Gerard walked past Frank, for the second time that day, grabbing Mikey’s hand and leaving the room with his tiny bag and little sense of sanity.   
“Where are we going—” Mikey said as Gerard pulled him along the hallway.

“Home, Michael. I’ve had an awful day.”

“I’ve had an exciting day, so much to tell you.”

“It can wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!! i love you more than i can say!!!

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading :))))


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